


it's all hope

by fineosaur



Series: count your blessings, my love. [6]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Canon Compliant, Love Confessions, M/M, set during a clash of kings, theon introspection before he leaves for pyke, tired king robb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25495762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fineosaur/pseuds/fineosaur
Summary: “I’m sending you home, Theon,” Robb reiterated. Home. There it was again. It hit him harder than earlier.“As an envoy to my father, I know that.”“My mother thinks Balon cannot be trusted,” Robb said, laughter coated his words as if it were a ridiculous concept.“I wouldn’t know,” Theon responded tersely, “not really.”
Relationships: Theon Greyjoy/Robb Stark
Series: count your blessings, my love. [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1842127
Comments: 3
Kudos: 32





	it's all hope

**Author's Note:**

> [from these drabble prompts](https://fineosaur.tumblr.com/post/623745195465424896/angstfluff-prompt-list), prompt 44. “You’ve always felt like home.”  
> 
> 
> title from: grave - george ogilvie

Much like the fire within the hearth that beckoned him with its flickering warmth, he felt disquiet within himself. 

The air felt thick, far more humid than that of the North’s. He could easily make out the Red Fork by where he stood, pulling at the laces of his tunic. It unsettled him, the rushing water, so fresh, unlike the brine of his home. 

Home. it didn’t sound at all like it should, or perhaps he should have felt it. That too he couldn’t imagine. Half his life he had stayed a ward of Winterfell, though hostage would be the more accurate term for it. 

If he thought hard enough, he could imagine the jagged shores along the Sunset Sea, he could possible conjure up the way the salt spray would feel on his cheeks. Last he had felt it, he was a boy of ten, Theon Greyjoy, Prince of the Iron Isles. He was still heir to the Seastone Chair, but uncertainty twisted its knife in him at the thought of it. 

He had grown accustomed to his life in Winterfell, despite the ephemeral overtone, he had gotten used to it. Once he had believed, hoped that Ned Stark would marry him to Sansa, but now she herself was but a hostage. Theon might have considered himself fickle, he knew himself to be, his interest jumping ship whenever he found something new to daydream about. Recently he had found his daydreams taking on a much different form, one much less temporary and wholly immersive. 

Theon strode to the bed he had been given, taking a seat with a wineskin in hand. He had found that war made him weary, distanced him from everything he thought he had known. He hung on the balance between what he was and what he would be, what he could be. He deigned to admit to what he wanted to be. What he knew, though, was that he needed to, travel to Seagard with Jason fucking Mallister. At least Patrek wasn’t bad company. 

His gut turned with apprehension. Theon chose to mask it with anticipation, he was a kraken who had been forced to spend too long away from the sea, frozen in the North, returning home would be good, he thought. 

There was a knock at the door once Theon dropped his boots by the bed. There was a muffled voice as he walked, lifting the latch and opening the door to Robb crouching with his direwolf at his feet. 

Theon leaned against the wooden door frame with crossed arms, smiling down at the young auburn-haired man, whose curled locks fell messily to his startling blue eyes. 

He pushed his hair out of his face and straightened himself to his full height, “Were you busy?” Robb asked with a small smile growing on his face too. He looked tired, he rubbed his neck and glanced to the stone floors before meeting Theon’s eyes again. 

“Not as busy as a king, I suppose,” Theon joked, stepping aside and letting Robb walk into his room, watching Grey Wind lay just outside the door. 

Robb took a look around the small room, silently letting his eyes wander as Theon gazed at him. He wasn’t sure if Robb could tell how fixed his stare was, that his heartbeat quickened just a bit more around him than it did with all those other women, with anyone else. 

“I’m sending you to Pyke.” 

Theon laughed, “I know,” he answered, watching Robb turn back to him with a wide stare. Even with all those years of growing up together, Theon would have never thought it would come to this. That they would be at war, that Robb would be king and that he himself would be fighting a war within himself. 

“I’m sending you home, Theon,” Robb reiterated. Home. There it was again. It hit him harder than earlier. 

Theon swallowed heavily, still tasting the sweet, tart wine on his tongue. He approached Robb with steady footing, pushing his long hair behind his ears before meeting Robb’s eyes. “As an envoy to my father, I know that.” 

Robb stood rooted by the shuttered window, his eyes darted away from Theon’s as soon as he got closer, “My mother thinks Balon cannot be trusted,” Robb said, laughter coated his words as if it were a ridiculous concept. 

“I wouldn’t know,” Theon responded tersely, “not really.” 

“It’s up to you then. When you get back home that is.” 

It rang in his head each time, “Will you stop saying that,” his tone was blunt, but as a sparring sword, it still packed a hit. 

“What?” 

“Home—“ Theon waved his hand, bothered by his own sentiment, he had tried to play his farce, but something about Robb weighed on all his strings. He felt like one of those wooden dolls that Sansa and the steward’s daughter loved so much. “You keep saying it as if I even remember what it was like.” 

Of course, he remembered. He remembered the smell of seaweed, the chalky feeling that matted his long black hair, the way his uncle had been to him. Theon remembered Asha’s skinny legs but not the sound of her voice. He missed his mother on occasion, more often than he ever wanted to admit. And even at times, he would think of his brothers. But that’s not what he meant. He knew exactly what home felt like, from the way it warmed him in manners the fire of the hearth could not and down to the way it looked back at him with glimmering Tully eyes. 

“I’m sorry, I guess even I haven’t fully accepted it yet,” Robb looked to his feet, slowly walking towards the small bed and taking a seat. “I don’t think I quite remember a time when you weren’t around.” 

Theon had no way of answering Robb, not when he spoke so solemnly. His feet, though not yet accustomed to the cold, stone floors, padded closer towards him, lining the curve of his jaw with his eyes, choosing to offer Robb a proper grin instead. 

He had been playing the same words in his head for the last years, ever since Robb had grown to four and ten and he began noticing the height he had grown to, or the way his shoulders appeared a lot broader than before. Even the fair hair that began growing out against his jaw had caught Theon’s eye. Once again, it was unsettling. 

“Have I made an impression on you, Stark?” Theon jeered, throwing himself on the bed as well. His body suddenly felt warmer than it had in a while, especially with the approaching winter. 

“You wish,” Robb countered, shoving Theon by the shoulder in mockery. 

Theon easily caught his hand, blaming the wine for the way he let himself stare back at Robb with his wrist between his fingers. He was warm, too inviting, especially with his pink lips and wide eyes. 

“What do you know of my wishes?” 

Robb’s brows furrowed, staring at Theon with a gaze of curiosity and confusion. “Is this to do with you going home?” Robb questioned, eyes dropping to where Theon took both their hands in his lap. 

Theon turned Robb’s palm, eyes tracing the lines that marked his calloused hand. They were far too young for this, or mayhap the kingdoms were too old for them. 

“You’ve always felt like home to me,” Theon quietly said, eyes trained on Robb’s palm, chest warm and light from the wine and belly weightless from the young man at his side. 

“I have?” 

Theon dared to look up at Robb, his surprised expression lit his eyes up, even more, making Theon’s heart pound a little harder. It had never been this way, not with anyone else. He didn’t think past those words, only that they had come to his head and he needed to say them. 

“Theon?” 

He leaned forward, lips colliding far too hard into Robb’s, it mattered not. Regardless, it felt right. Robb’s lips were softer than he had imagined, his lips moved slower even. It was good, despite initially being stunned, Robb relaxed into it, making Theon take his time as well. 

Robb held onto Theon’s hand which locked on the back of Robb’s neck. They held one another steady as Theon shifted Robb until his back was pressed into the hard mattress. He pulled away briefly, staring down at his best friend, whom he had called his brother for half his life, the man he inevitably loved. 

He stared down at Robb, his tousled russet curls, puckered, pink lips, and the flush that tinted his skin, still doing nothing to hide the freckles that dusted his face. 

“I think I might love you,” Robb told him hesitantly, reaching out to tuck Theon’s long hair behind his ear, thumbing his earring before letting his fingertips line Theon’s stubbled jaw. 

The words sent a flurry of emotion through him, tugging at his heart as he was haunted by thoughts of his departure. 

“I think so too,” Theon nodded, smiling down at him before slowly leaning down to take ahold of Robb’s lips once more, only to be interrupted. 

“You think you love me too?” 

“No, I think you love me.” 

Robb began laughing underneath him, pulling Theon down to his lips, both their laughs made their teeth clash before he shifted and leaned his forehead against Robb’s, his hair hung around them. 

“I do, I love you,” Theon breathed, closing his eyes as they laid there, cocooned in each other’s thoughts. The war was leagues away, for now, it was only them. They were more than just a kraken and a direwolf, they were only boys, Robb and Theon, and all that mattered were their smiles against one another.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading  
> lots of love,  
> [fineosaur](https://fineosaur.tumblr.com)  
> (come say hi! or send a prompt ;) )


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